


Whiplash

by Sybariticfanfiction (SybariticReyna)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff & Fluff & More Fluff Baby!!, Gen, Getting Together, Human/Cybertronian Bonding, M/M, Mentions of Canonical Injury, Morning Phonecalls, Mutual Pining, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybariticReyna/pseuds/Sybariticfanfiction
Summary: soon to be a collection of various transformers ficlets/minifics. tags will be updates as we go
Relationships: Blitzwing (Transformers)/Original Character(s), Blurr (Transformers)/Reader, Breakdown/Knock Out/Reader, Jetfire & Jetstorm, Jetfire & Reader, Jetstorm & Reader, Jettwins & Reader, Megatron & Reader, Optimus Prime & Reader, Prowl (Transformers)/Reader, Swerve/Reader, Whirl/Reader
Comments: 42
Kudos: 226





	1. Jettwins & Reader

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter is dedicated to my amazing friend Soundly :3c

Sari’s key doesn’t make sense. 

You know it’s made of _raw AllSpark power_ , but it just. It shouldn’t let you easily communicate with _aliens_ , thousands of miles away from your current location because they are literally in space. 

But. You are so thankful it does. 

It’s your day off, and knowing that can change in a moment’s notice while working with the local Autobots, you plan on making the most out of it. Starting with lounging in your bed long past your usual wake up time. 

It's _cold_ in Detroit, and it’s cold in your apartment, but three blankets and a, frankly, absurd collection of plushies keeps you warm and toasty as you flip through apps and wait not-so-patiently for _the boys._

The boys being, of course, mechs who’re probably thousands of years older than you, although they certainly don't act like it. You guess some of their bootcamp training must've stuck, because they’re very diligent about texting and/or calling you every single day. “Sari said that is what the friends do!” and all. 

As if they can feel you laughing across the universe, your phone buzzes in hand, and “ _Jetfire <33333_” appears on screen. Jetstorm also has five 3’s, just to keep things even, but for whatever reason they use Jetfire’s comm. more often. 

You accept, and immediately hear a chorus of, “ _Good morning!_ ”s. 

“Good morning!” You say, unable to keep the silly smile off your face. 

“It has been--” Jetstorm counts in cybertronian, making a clicking noise your mouth can’t replicate, “eleven hours since we last had conversation!” 

Hours? “I was expecting cycles.” 

Someone (Jetstorm again, you think) scoffs. 

“We do the math.” Jetfire assures you. “ _Human_ math.” He says it so seriously. 

It's very difficult to keep the laughter out of your voice, but you manage to ask, “Wouldn’t it be cybertronian to human math?” 

Jetstorm doesn’t even bother masking his laughter, but he does grant his brother a reprieve by asking, “What have you been doing then, human friend?” 

“ _Absolutely nothing,_ ” You stretch out across your bed indulgently, despite knowing damn well your phone doesn’t do video. At least when you’re calling mechs. You’re not quite sure how that would work anyways _._ Maybe a hologram thing? Like Prowl has? 

The twins make that staticky noise you usually associate with Bumblebee, and Jetfire says, “You have all the luck! We have been _cleaning._ ” 

Jetstorm lowers his voice, his accent nearly disappearing as he imitates Sentinel Prime, “We need this ship in tip top shape for when we get back to Cybertron!” His impersonation is unsettlingly similar to the real thing, and you wonder if he’s just had a lot of practice mocking Sentinel. Or who knows, maybe it's a talent of his. 

“Yes! It is most tiring.” Jetfire adds. 

You sigh sympathetically. “What is there to even clean, in space?” 

Apparently quite a lot. You let the two fill you in on ship maintenance and upkeep while you reorganize your nightstand, still refusing to get up for anything other than breakfast and the bathroom. 

They don’t seem to mind your somewhat distracted listening, but they do tease you when you drop your lighter on the floor and hiss curses as you feverishly try to retrieve it without standing up. 

They ask what a lighter is too, and why you have an “arson device” (a term you cannot definitively pin down as either a Jettwins Thing or a Cybertronian Thing, but find charming) next to your “berth”. Which _then_ leads to you rather awkwardly trying to explain the concept of candles, and why humans find lighting things on fire enjoyable. 

Jetfire also makes the _cutest_ static chirping noise when you say that you, like most humans, just adore fire in general, and try not to laugh _too much_ while his brother teases him. 

In the end you promise to show them Real Actual Candles and what they do the next time they come to Earth, and they both seem pleased.


	2. BDKO/Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prime universe, post MECH injury. Fluff&Angst ft The Boyfriends

Breakdown doesn’t get _scolded_. Reprimanded, maybe. But scolded as if he is a newspark dipping into the energon candy? No. 

Except, apparently, when he worries his human. 

“Don’t you _ever_ take a risk like that again!” Your harsh, angry tone is in stark contrast to the tear tracks on your cheeks and how you cling to his digits. As if he’d even consider putting you down when you're-- like this. 

Knockout is uncharacteristically silent, either content to let you get this off your chest or planning his own diatribe. Breakdown bets on it being the latter, given his volatile EM Field.

“I can’t promise I’ll _never_ \--” 

If it were any other human, he’d crush you the moment you so rudely interrupt, “Promise me _in my lifetime._ ” 

He. He can’t. He’s a soldier of the Decepticons and Earth is, as far as they know, the only planet to have an Autobot base. 

But you look wrecked, and not in a good way. As you’re so quick to point out, you only live so long. He wants you smiling and teasing and _happy_ for as much of that as he and his Conjunx can manage. 

“I promise.” He says. 

You take a deep breath, and he can _feel_ how shakey it is despite the reassurance. “Okay.” 

Breakdown is pretty sure it’s not, actually. “Okay?” He repeats, glancing over at Knockout. The medicon refuses to assist, instead acting as if organizing his desk is a pressing issue. 

“Breakdown, I-- It might be selfish or whatever, but… I don’t want you hurt.” You say, refusing to look him in the optics. Instead you attempt to bore a hole in his Decepticon sigil. 

Despite his unwillingness to join this conversation, Knockout scoffs. “It’s not _selfish._ I’m the selfish one in this…” 

His hesitance gets you to smile, at least. “Still can’t say _relationship?_ ” 

The medicon sneers at you as he abandons his work. “Shut up, you… greasy little organic.” Knockout says, coming to a stop in front of the two of you. He’s careful not to touch Breakdown, something that does not escape the larger mechs notice as he reaches to fix your shirt. Preening is how he shows affection. 

You lean into his servo, teasing, “You couldn’t think of a good insult!” 

“I had to pick the best from a _long_ list.” He replies. 

“ _Bullshit.”_ Your laugh is still shaky and off pitch, but it's _better_. Breakdown sends him a thankful smile, and despite his still simmering anger, he smiles back. 

“Come on. Doc Knock is done for the day.”

"Am I?" 

You nod, confirming, "Yes, you _are_ , because I want to cuddle both of my alien boyfriends." 

Knockout grimaces, "You know I don't like that term."

"Would you prefer husband?" 

You're a mess, a teasing, tear stained mess, and all Breakdown can think is _yes._

And if how Knockout's field lights up with affection is anything to go by, he agrees. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If u want to imagine this in the same universe as Fated Nonsense u can!! Also I was gonna update this yesterday but *shrug. Next up is an OC/tfa!Blitzwing thing <3333 
> 
> Forgot to mention it last time but I'll take ficlet requests for this btw!! xReader only pls, I only write OCs I'm familiar with


	3. Blitzwing/DID!OC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmmm this is High-key For Me lmao 
> 
> To explain a little bit, DID is Dissociative Identity Disorder, or what used to be "multiple personalities". I love love love Blitzwing but his archetype is based off several misconceptions abt what DID is like. W him being an alien robot tho, I wanted to explore the idea that maybe it's just different for them? And how a relationship would work between two wildly different systems? 
> 
> Blitzwing's nicknames are purposefully Like That, btw. He thinks it's funny. 
> 
> Anyways. I'll be back to xreaders Real Soon don't worry :3c

There’s no dramatic change. 

When Blitzwing switches, often and rapidly, there is a _physical, readily apparent difference_ that even complete strangers can recognize. Blitzwing is one-and-three, and everyone knows it. 

His human is one-and-three and even _he_ has difficulty seeing the switches, recognizing who is who when they’re all in the same tiny organic form. It’s… subtle and confusing, how their cadence becomes softer when it’s Darling speaking, how they’re harsh and _responsible_ when it’s Sugar, how they cling to his servos when Sweetie is in charge. How Sweetie _likes_ their nickname, while the other two roll their eyes and remind him they have _actual_ names. It’s just none of his business. 

Which is silly, really, because if anyone should be privilege to knowing their names, it's the mech they’re dating. 

The mech that makes them smile just by coming “home”. The new dents in his chassis and bruises to his protoform don’t _disappear,_ but they stop hurting as much when he scoops them up. “Hello!” Random greets. “My tiny little lov—” 

“I am neither tiny nor little, Blitz.” Is their sharp reply, only softened by their smile. Still, they shift irritability in his servos, trying to find a comfortable position. It’s hard to be _comfy_ in metal hands, and Blitzwing doesn’t try and make it any easier. They’re just so _cute_ when they squirm. 

“Could have fooled me!” He answers brightly. His eyes narrow for a moment, and Icy takes over to ask, “Sugar?” 

They freeze in place, seemingly taken off guard. “A shot in the dark.” They accuse. 

“I have very good aim.” He says, matter of fact. Random switches in to add, “Except when I don’t. Those damn Autobots are wily.” 

“Wily.” They, now confirmed to be Sugar, repeat. They look amused. “Are you going to get checked out? You look a little worse for wear.” 

That’s more of a demand than an actual question, coming from Sugar. Blitzwing would rather be shot at some more than admit to taking orders from a human, but their eyes narrow and their mouth pulls into a frown when he doesn’t immediately start walking. 

And he just can’t allow _that._

Icy smooths the creases forming between their brows with a single digit, tutting, “You’ll give yourself wrinkles.” 

Where Darling would’ve poked fun at his pronunciation, Sugar simply sighs. They look tired, although that’s not saying much. They’re always tired, just like how Random is always brimming with manic energy. Polar opposites, those two. 

Blitzwing makes his way over to the ‘medbay’ (a loose classification, seeing as they’re all trapped in a rather small cave. Small for Decepticons, at least). Technically, no one among them is qualified to patch up cons, but after thousands of years they’ve all learned the basics. It would be easier if Starscream weren’t a traitor, though. 

Blitzwing sets his human down next to him, Hothead growling for them to _stay put_. They simply wave him off with a smile. If were anyone else, he might be offended, but… he will admit to having a soft spot for them. 

They watch him bang out the newest dents quite attentively, as if they’re taking notes. Blitzwing fleetingly tries to picture them helping out with repairs, complete with one of those _ridiculous_ outfits human medics wear. What were they were called? Nurses? He saw quite a few of them during “Halloween” (a dumb, but entertaining holiday, in his opinion. Who gives away candy?). 

His human would look so _cute._ He can’t help but reach out, tilting their face up to look at them better. 

Sugar narrows their eyes, asking, “What are you thinking?” 

“I love my sparkmate.” 

And. The change isn’t obvious, it never is. But Sugar says, “Blitzwing, finish your repairs first,” and _Darling_ says, “I love you too.” 

He runs a digit over their cheek, mindful of how hard he presses, and asks, “Can I kiss you?” 

“Don’t know, _c_ _ _an_ you_, big bot?” Despite their teasing, Darling sits up on their knees and reaches for him, too impatient to demand he mass-displace. 

“That’s big _con,_ to you.” Hothead snaps. 

They aren't intimidated in the slightest, going as far as to lean up and peck his cheek. “Sorry, Blitz.” They say softly. 

“Apology accepted.” He answers. 

They like kissing any and all of Blitzwing’s faces, but with Darling a more gentle approach is best, and Icy is more than happy to do so. Blitzwing brings a servo up to support them too, so they don’t have to concentrate on balancing instead of what a _fantastic_ kisser their mech is. Despite the rather large gap in size class and the fact that he is made of metal. 

Blitzwing likes kissing any and all of his human’s too, but he _really_ likes how Darling sighs when they pull away, eyes half lidded and full of affection. They are… unapologetic in their feelings for him, and Blitzwing soaks it up like a sponge. He knows he should be more cautious, especially given how soft and frail they are, but they smile at him and it's over. 

"Love you," They remind him once again. 


	4. Blurr/Reader

When people say they can listen to their loved one _for hours_ , they don't usually mean "my significant other can literally spend hours talking at the speed of light and I will hang on every word." 

You do. 

Blurr is sitting still, for once, although his hands (servos? That's what Bumblebee calls em, at least) are anything but. He alternates between playing with a bouncy ball (Sari got it for him, after deciding despite the pretty color, it's boring), and messing with your shirt. He seems fascinated by the lace edging. 

It doesn't distract _too much_ though, as he is still very capable of talking a mile a minute. 

The current rant was prompted by you asking if he, like Bumblebee and Bulkhead, went through Bootcamp. 

Apparently he did, but not at the same time and not with the same mentor ( _thank Primus_ ). "I shouldn't question a Prime's judgement, but Bumblebee would make an excellent scout, you know. He's very good at avoiding your Prime, which could translate into avoiding Decepticons, which is what we need! And he's almost as fast as I am, and I'm _very fast_." 

(He says that, but his digits are slow, gentle, carefully tracing the lines of your shirt and the more prominent bones underneath it. You find the juxtaposition rather endearing) 

" _V_ _ery._ " You agree, to assure him you're still paying attention. 

He smiles. "Right! I'm still not sure why all of them are repair-bots, it just seems--" 

You gently cut him off, "Prowl isn't technically a repair-bot. Or part of the team, officially." Emotionally is another story. 

"He's _not_? Where did they find him? Out by a spacebridge? That seems unlikely, unless he was trying to use it illegally. Was he?" 

"I think Bumblebee said he had his own ship? And that it was damaged when they found him?" You should ask for the specifics sometime. 

Blurr mumbles something in cybertronian, too fast for you to even attempt to translate. 

"In any case! My experience with Bootcamp was not pleasant, but it doesn't seem as bad as what your mechs went through. Granted, that's just my opinion. Perception? Your language is strange." He says, face scrunching up in annoyance. "How do you--"

You reach up to smooth the crease forming between his optics, and he stops mid sentence. 

"Blurr?" 

He looks from your hand to your face, optics near blindingly bright. You have to squint to meet his gaze. 

"If humans could sense EM fields this would be much easier." 

It's rare to get just a single sentence from him, so you wait a little longer than necessary before asking, " _What_ would be? Talking about Bootcamp? If you're uncomfortable we can talk about something different--" _oh, God, you didn't even ask, what kind of--_ His digits dig into your hips a little, distracting you once again. "Blurr?" 

"Asking permission to kiss you would be a lot easier, I mean." His servo, previously resting on your collarbone, moves up to your cheek. "You-- Ratchet explained-- _rather rudely_ \-- that humans don't have the same sensitivity to 'fields but…" he pulls another face. 

_He's so cute_ , you don't know how you got so lucky. Smiling, you lean up and remind him, "You don't need to ask every time, you know." If this is long term, and you _so hope_ it is, he'll have to ask a lot. 

"I do," and he doesn't know it, of course, but that phrase in the current context just... has your heart _racing._

You close the distance in an instant. Your kiss lacks the usual _finesse_ , but none of the affection. 

Kissing him is one of the few ways you can get him to _slow down_ a little bit, but even now you feel his engine rev in excitement.

Oh, you love him, you love him, you do. You murmur nonsense between softer kisses, and Blurr answers with your name in a tone you've never heard anyone else use. Reverent, almost. 

You can't feel EM fields, but you swear you can feel the love radiating from him. And even just _thinking_ that in your own head makes you laugh at how cheesey it is. 

Blurr leans back far enough to look you over, asking, "Why are you laughing?" 

"I'm in love with a speedy alien." 

He narrows his optics. "The _speediest_ alien. Remember my races with Bumblebee? He _did_ show you those, right?" His competitive streak comes back with a vengeance. "Have I mentioned that I beat Rodimus too? He used to be called _hot rod_." 

You're torn between assuring him you know he's the fastest, and letting him continue trying to impress you. It's cute. 

Kissing him would be nice too though. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know he's only there for three seconds but I love cyberverse!Blurr & I Had To reference their race. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun with how ramble-y he is too. :3cccc 
> 
> I take xReader requests!! for femmes & mechs <333


	5. Optimus Prime & Autistic!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this takes place post s1 of rescue bots bc. Idk yall. I just like rescue bots. and knitting.

There's something about repetition. You can't really _explain_ it, not properly, but it's… soothing. Calming, maybe, although not in the same way relaxing in your bed is. 

_Knit, knit, yarn over, purl until the marker, yarn over, knit, reverse._ The pattern is familiar, and the yarn is a nice texture. Sure, you had to get it from the mainland, and that was a hassle, but nothing is worse than _scratchy_ yarn rubbing your fingertips raw.

_That_ would not at all help you. It'd probably make it worse, actually, and you're already just _barely_ okay with this whole situation. 

The situation being a "We survived time travel!" Party with all the mechs, including Bumblebee and Optimus Prime himself. 

It's _exciting,_ it really is! But there's also _so much_ going on, and you don't know where to focus. On their Leader, whose chatting with Cody? On Bumblebee and Blades, the latter of which is flirting so obviously it makes _you_ blush? What about Heatwave, who appears to be overindulging in the highgrade, or Dani, _still_ on her phone, texting someone or another. 

It's a lot, and you retreated to your favorite corner of the couch early in the evening. Frankie had tried her best to stay awake, but she's long since taken up the rest of the couch, dead asleep. 

Time traveling and learning that the Rescue Bots are actually aliens takes a lot out of a girl, you suppose. 

You turn your attention back to your project, recounting the stitches _(just in case)_ before starting again. 

You get two rows in before someone sits down in front of you (a very large metal someone, by the sound of it). 

"Cody tells me you made him 'mittens'?" Optimus Prime asks. "And I notice you've been working on…" He struggles for the right word. 

"It's going to be a shawl." 

"A shawl?" He sounds _baffled_ by this. 

You laugh. "Like a cape, sort of." You like them because you can pull 'em real tight, like a security blanket.

There's a pause, and you glance up to find Optimus' optics locked on your shawl-in-the-making. 

_Cute._

You return to work, adding, "I can't exactly make em bot sized, but don't you guys have kids too?" 

"Yes. Miko, Rafael, and Jack." 

You hum in acknowledgement. "You know how old they are?" Mechs struggle with that, you know. The idea that one is considered an adult at 18 is one they can't seem to wrap their heads around. 

"Miko and Jack are in high school, and Raf just started middle school." He says, quite proudly. "I… hope you do not mind me asking, but why do you knit in the first place?" 

Now, you have _options,_ here. You could just say you prefer homemade things, like you do when humans ask. 

But you take your role as bot-teacher quite seriously, and you _have_ discussed it with the rescue bots before. 

So you say, "It's a form of stimming." 

"... _stimming_." Optimus repeats. 

"It's a… coping mechanism, I suppose. I'm autistic, and… layered noises can be overwhelming for me." It's hard to translate something you rarely even discuss with other humans into Cybertronian speak. When you _do_ discuss being autistic, it's usually with other autistics, or otherwise neuroatypical/divergent folk, like Dani. 

Optimus moves in place, presumably to get more comfortable. "Autistic?" 

"It's a… head thing." You loll your head to the side. "Not caused by anything." Heatwave had asked you that once, after a show they'd watched mentioned PTSD. 

Optimus falls silent, long enough for you to finish another half row of stitches on the wrong side. "Stimming helps you deal with stressors, then?" 

"Yes, and no. Stimming help with _any_ strong emotion. Like-- like when I get excited I like to flap my hands, and I know someone who snaps their fingers, or bites at their nails. It's different for everyone, and a lot of people have multiple stims." Talking about it makes you stitch faster. 

"What other-- is symptoms the correct word? How else does it manifest?" 

You frown. " _How does being autistic change my day to day compared to allistics?_ ” You supply for him, adding on, “Allistic means non-autistic. Not on the spectrum.”

"Yes, that. Sounds better. I apologize." 

"It's fine." You've had people ask in more awkward, less kind intentioned ways. "Like I said, I'm sensitive to auditory _stuff,_ especially like. Complicated noise?" That one's hard to explain. "And I like stimming, and--" And you could talk about this for _hours_. 

And given Optimus' expression, you're pretty sure he'd let you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclaimer: I'm not autistic myself so if anyone has suggestions on how to do better I'd really like to hear em!!! :3c 
> 
> Ill try to remember to hyperlink their page when I'm Not on my phone but this was beta-read by my dear friend mcfuck here on ao3!!! 
> 
> I am very tired.


	6. Starscream & Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for character death!! Not like. In Fic but I hc that Starscream's trine is absent in tfp because they're offline & then I got angsty abt it so

The fact that you can peak at multiple timelines and realities isn't usually discussed outside of the warnings you give. 

It's not that  _ you _ don't want to discuss it, but rather that your allies find it disconcerting at best. You've tried to explain the constantly changing timelines  _ prove  _ things can change and there's no reason to fear fate, but they don't listen. 

Still. Not  _ usually _ doesn't mean  _ never _ , and Knockout is… Knockout. 

It's unsurprisingly that he's the one to ask, "So, out of all the realities you've… taken a look at, who's your favorite 'con?" 

He says it in a way that implies he already knows the answer, and you suppose that's partially your fault for complimenting his paint job and eyeing him as you do. He's  _ bold _ , is all. Not at all your type, but bold. 

Megatron scoffs from his throne, "How does this help us  _ strategize _ , Medic?" That's the weakest scolding you've ever heard. And it's not as if this 'strategy meeting' was going anywhere anyways. Starscream and Shockwave have been bickering the majority of the time. 

Knockout smiles, "It doesn't, my Lord. I am simply… curious." 

You frown. "Thundercracker." 

The Medic does not react to this. 

Starscream  _ does _ . His wings flick out and his plating flairs almost instantly, optics  _ blazing. _ "Excuse me?" 

"Thundercracker is my favorite 'con." You repeat. Unable to help yourself, you add, "In one canon, he settles down here on Earth and becomes a writer. He has a  _ dog _ ." And you  _ love him _ . 

"Do we know a Thundercracker?" Knockout is asking. He sounds confused, but you don't look away from Starscream long enough to confirm. He stalks across the room like the goddamn bird of prey you always forget he is, only to stop directly in front of you. 

"He was one of Starscream's trine." Shockwave says, his voice wiped clean of annoyance. "His Spark went out--" 

"Millions of years ago." Starscream finishes. He reaches out, offering. "What do you know about him?" is just code for  _ tell me everything. _

You nod your assent. 

Starscream does a very good job of maintaining a Prim and Proper attitude, even with your cupped in his servos. "Excuse me, Lord Megatron." 

You'd usually wave goodbye too, but you're more interested in how Starscream's face pinches up. "Where are we going?" 

"I-- I don't know." 

He's telling the truth, you know. It's written in how he hesitates. 

"We could just go to my hab." You prompt. "I  _ pinky swear _ I won't tell anyone."  _ That's  _ the truth too, but you both know Soundwave will find out one way or another. 

It's not that you're not… well. You wouldn't go as far as to say you're  _ friends _ , but Starscream has never gone out of his way to antagonize you outside of slightly bitchy commentary. 

Starscream ex vents hard enough to ruffle your hair. "Fine." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might make a continuation to include the talk they have in Reader's room? Unsure as of yet. 
> 
> Reminder that i take minific requests!! Next up is probably a Soundwave thing bc. I love Soundwave.


	7. Whirl/Reader, Possible CyWhirlGate/Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "wow syb that chapter title is A Lot"  
> You're right,,, but listen. I wanted some Pining. Some casual affection. Some more pining.

It can be difficult, being the only human on a ship full of fifteen to forty foot aliens. There are obvious things, like scrambling out of the way when mechs aren't paying attention, cultural differences, even stuff like getting around without assistance. 

And then there are the more subtle (or, at least, _less prominent_ ) difficulties, like being a _dumb pining idiot_ and not knowing how to deal with that. Not even a little bit. 

It doesn't help that your friends are touchy and overly affectionate and _wonderful._ You stretch across Whirl's lap, trying and failing to concentrate on the screen in front of you.

Swerve's is packed this particular evening, but the noise is kept to a minimum so everyone can enjoy the movie. Although "enjoy" is a loose term, in this case. It's Weird Horror Movie Night, and while no one seems actually _scared_ , you do hear a few exclamations of "what the fuck" whenever something goes wrong. 

Whirl doesn't seem _too_ perturbed, apparently more interested in fucking with your hair. You've long since given up trying to get him to knock it off. Thankfully, his weird claw bits have yet to get truly tangled, and you're not sure if that's on account of Whirl being careful, or just plain ole luck. 

Maybe it's both. 

Maybe it's… Maybelline.

You press your face against Whirl's thigh, trying not to laugh at your own joke. The warm metal is calming, familiar. 

(and that's weird too, right?) 

Whirl makes a quiet chirping noise when you move, and although you don't look up, you can imagine him craning his neck to look down at you. "The fuck, fleshy?" 

You motion listlessly, "Just thought of something funny." 

" _Riiiiiiight._ Because this movie is _hilarious_." He says, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Good job, Swerve!" 

You smile apologetically when the minibot glances over, but he doesn't seem offended by Whirl's harshness. 

Turning back to the _rudeass_ helicopter, you offer, "You know what Cyc's horns remind me of?" 

He takes the bait. "His horns?" 

" _Bunny ears_." 

Whirl pauses. Thinks it over. Probably tries to remember what the fuck a bunny is. 

And then he laughs, loud and overlaid with static. "He _is_ a bunny! He-- he, oh frag, I gotta tell Tailgate." 

You want to ask if you can tell Tailgate yourself, but that's… embarrassing, really. You don't even know how you'd twist that into something flirtatious, at _most_ it'd be an excuse to talk to them. Which is silly. Because they're your friends, and you can talk to them anytime.

_Ugh._

It's not bad enough to be crushing on _one_ giant alien, you needed to develop feelings for _three_. Two of which are dating, one of which is currently laughing so hard you consider leaving his lap. It wouldn't do to be crushed by Whirl's thighs. 

At least. Not in _this_ context. Maybe his holoform could… 

… _Goodness gracious,_ you should _not_ be thinking about that right now. 

You hide your burning face in your hands as Whirl collects himself. "A _bunny._ " He repeats. "Aren't bunnies like-- hey." 

You look up at him through your fingers, his single optic glowing like a spotlight. 

"Why're you _blushing_?" He sounds downright delighted. "Are you embarrassed? Whatcha thinking about?" 

Of course the mech who can't remember if tears are a good thing or a bad thing knows what _blushing_ means. That makes sense. 

You swat at him half heartedly. " _Nothing._ Not a single thing." 

"Awwwww," Whirl coos mockingly. "You can be honest with me, your ole pal Whirl!!" He scoops you up (as best he can with his servo situation being what it is), bringing you up so neither of you have to stretch in order to see the other. 

"Ole pal?" You repeat, incredulous. "We-- we're not _ole pals_ even in human standards, mx. thousands of years old alien." 

"That's a mouthful." Whirl resets his optic, and you're pretty sure it's supposed to be a wink, but. Who knows, with him. 

"You don't have a mouth." You deadpan. 

"And yet I am still hotter than--" 

Whirl's crowing is cut off by another of Swerve's patrons asking him to shut it, and you're too distracted by how quickly Whirl sets you back on his lap to figure out who. The speed of it makes your head spin. 

"Don't _do that_." You snip. 

"Don't hurt the human, Whirl, they're _delicate_." He mocks, patting your cheek with the flat of one of his claws. 

"You didn't hurt me, you dumb-aft. It makes me dizzy." 

You continue bickering with him in low tones for the majority of the film, unable to stop yourself. Conversing with Whirl is a strange combination of infuriating and (loathe as you are to admit it) endearing. 

You like his nonsense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take requests including if any one wants to read more of Reader Being Silly and Lovesick For 3 (Three) Mechs


	8. Swerve/Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy valentines!!!  
> in this house we love Swerve and the adventure zone!! 
> 
> warning for alcohol consumption

Swerve is in love. 

"--but you _could_ start in season 2, and then do 1 & 3, because those're both DND. The real difference between 1 & 2 is the, like, narrative style? Season 2 is monster of the week so it's a lot more episodic." 

_Very in love_ , he corrects, watching you gesture wildly as you ramble on about your favorite "human media" (you always look so _delighted_ to steal your fellow crew members terms and phrases, even when they'll be the first to admit tacking 'human' on isn't exactly clever wordplay). 

The bar quieted long ago, leaving Swerve with only a few stragglers and you, arguably his best customer. Not because you're that heavy a drinker, but because you're _you._ The human liaison. Their link to Earth. Swerve's best friend & seemingly the only one who really really tries to listen to his rambling. 

"But _anyways_ ," You take a sip of your drink before continuing, "Both of them have very strong storylines and characters, and the _endings, oh my goodness._ Are you okay with vague spoilers?" 

"You know I am." Swerve confirms. Really, even if he weren't, he'd probably say yes just to keep you talking. "I am _so_ okay with spoilers." 

"The end of season 1 was _fantastic,_ especially the final fight and all that, but th--the like epilogues were _good_." You pause for a moment, swirling your drink around. "But listen, Swerve, _listen_ \--" 

He makes a show of leaning forward, as if he weren't already completely invested in how very passionate you are. 

"The ending for season two is _the shit._ Okay, so, Dani's "you're my home" speech is _so romantic_ , and they end up together, natch--" 

"Natch?"

"Naturally." You reach over to pay his arm, as if to comfort him. It's… cute. "Where was I?" 

Swerve smiles, looking at your nearly depleted drink rather than your eyes. "You're my home." 

"I--" You make a noise not even Swerve has heard before, and when he looks up you're visibly flustered. "Oh. _Oh,_ okay, um, so. Dani and Aubrey are _so_ endgame, but what really shocked me was Duck!" 

"What did Duck do?" He asks. 

"Duck gets a hot alien wife, and, speaking as the only human, ain't that the fuckin _dream_?" You sigh and put your hand over your heart, even more dramatic than usual. 

It's not that Swerve doesn't think through his response. It's that he really means it when he says, "That is the dream." 

And you, more than a little bit tipsy and not quite at the top of your game, squint at him in obvious confusion. "You-- Swerve, you know I mean cybertronians, right? You're the aliens, for me." 

"Uh-huh." He doesn't even try to fight his smile. 

"So you--" He can _see it_ , the moment it clicks into place for you. "Me?" 

_"Uh-huh_."

You erupt into a fit of laughter that leaves you breathless as you ask, "Me? Me, _me_? _I'm_ the hot alien wife?" You don't even wait for a confirmation before saying, "Swerve, that's like-- the _best_ pick up line ever, oh my god." 

Swerve is in love, and although he doesn’t know it yet, you're _pretty sure_ you are too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it is 11:57 rn but if yall wanna send in Extra Special V-day requests id be super duper stoked. especially if they also count towards femslash February <3333


	9. tfa!Prowl/Reader

Sari's Valentine's Day excitement is equal parts exhausting, endearing, and downright heartbreaking. 

The latter of which mostly because she puts an emphasis on how excited she is to have friends to celebrate it with this year. With how outgoing and fearless she is, you sometimes forget how isolated she's been for the majority of her life. The reminder sits heavy in your chest as the two of you continue making Valentine cards. 

You can't undo that sort of thing, but you can help her with the glitter glue when she inevitably gets it in her hair and/or on her brand new dress. 

_ And _ you can help her get the cards to the base without Bumblebee seeing them before everyone else and ruining the surprise. You also add a heart shaped box of candy and six roses, one for each member of the team. 

Sari is, of course,  _ delighted _ to receive her candy and flower. She throws her arms around you, burying her face in your shirt. "Thank you, thank you!" 

For a preteen, Sari is surprisingly strong. You'd swear her bones are iron or something. " _ Ow _ ." You say pointedly. 

Unlike most, Sari scoffs at your pain as she lets go. "I didn't hug you that hard." She says, hands on her hips. She's trying her best to look  _ stern _ , but oh, goodness, is this child adorable. 

Still, you play along, and pout at her as dramatically as you can manage. "I'm  _ soft,  _ Sari _. _ Fragile. These old bones cannot take it." 

"You're not even that old.  _ Ratchet  _ is old." She responds. 

"Hey!" The medic protests. 

You smile apologetically while Sari, apparently realizing  _ it's time _ , starts rooting through your pack for the mechs' cards. 

She's a whirlwind of valentine well wishes, leaving you to follow and say, "It's a human holiday," as you hand them their rose. 

Most of the bots take that as explanation enough, but Prowl, ever curious about humans, asks, "What kind of holiday?" 

"Valentine's. It's, um," You wave his rose around listlessly. "It's one of the holidays that change when you age." 

"Like Halloween." He nods. Originally, he had trouble understanding why  _ some _ humans dress up and get candy, while others  _ give _ the candy, and yet another group parties. Splitting it up by age groups made sense to him. 

You smile encouragingly. "Mhm! Valentine's is about love. So, for Sari and kids in general it's mostly platonic and familial in nature. Her asking Bumblebee to be her valentine is like a declaration of "you're my best friend"." 

Prowl glances over at the pair in question. "I see." 

"For  _ adults _ , like me, it's more uh. It's still love in general, so we get flowers and candy for friends and family, but it also includes  _ romantic love _ ." Some would argue that it's mostly about romantic love, but that hasn't been your experience. 

He tilts his head curiously. "How do you know the difference?" 

_ How, indeed _ . You purse your lips. "Think it's mostly intent and context clues. Like… like if you're already dating, of course it's romantic. If they ask you to dinner, then it is also romantic. If you're  _ almost _ a couple, then it's safe to assume it's romantic." There are exceptions, of course, but you don't think it's necessary to get into "singles movie nights" and the like. Not right now. 

Prowl seems confused, but he's not one to throw a million questions at you, and you have to prompt, "Yes?" 

"The flowers are platonic, correct?" 

"For the other mechs? Yes." That much seemed obvious, especially when Sari handed them their cards at the same time. But  _ his _ flower is still between your fingers. 

Prowl is an observant mech. He must get it, right? Must've pieced it together? 

Apparently not, because he asks, "Is that my token of platonic affection?" 

Times like these, you have to remind yourself he's an alien. He's not  _ purposefully _ being obtuse. 

"It is your flower." You offer. "But I have a question for you." 

This, at the very least, he seems to understand. His optics brighten to near blinding as he prompts, "Ask away." 

You planned a million different smooth as hell lines in your head this morning, but all you manage is, "You wanna be my Valentine?" 

As it turns out, that's all you need. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been havin a bad month lads :((((( 
> 
> I kinda got carried away w Sari friend feels but I liked writing Prowl!!! even tho I'm not 100% on my characterization. tfa has the best Prowl imo. Ninja Icon 
> 
> anyways. I've got two (2) more requests I'm working on I think? one of which is almost done?   
> So send me some more if you've got em!!


	10. Megatron & Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for grief/grieving. that's like. the whole chapter 
> 
> also. what universe this takes place in is a mystery to us all.

Grief is weird. 

You don't know how you feel, what you feel, or  _ if  _ you feel. You are numb with a side of sadness, and all you want to do is curl up in a ball of blankets deep in your home. 

But you have to at least  _ try _ and act normal after taking an unplanned "vacation", so you compromise by curling up in Megatron's lap. 

The mech is by no means a good cuddle buddy, but he's your… friend, and he gives you a sense of security (however misplaced that may be). 

Plus, it takes very little effort on your part to get him rambling about poetry. He's been, rather disdainfully, digging into human prose, and while the majority get a hard no, he's found a few he's fond of. 

Right now he's talking about some book he found, and any other day you'd be enraptured. 

Today, you mostly just like the vibrations caused by his booming voice. It's… relaxing. 

Maybe he'll just let you stay here until you heal, or at least get used to the hole in your chest.  _ Healing  _ fully is an impossibility, you know that. But you'll get better, and you'll adapt to the new normal. 

You try (unsuccessfully) to fix the wrinkles in your shirt again as you consider that. One day, you'll be okay. And then maybe the next you'll be a mess. But the messy days will get farther and farther apart. 

You give up fixing your outfit with a sigh, and lean back against Megatron's abdomen. He's not a comfy or conventional cuddle buddy, not by a long shot, but you know Megatron and the best ways to cuddle him. 

(Un)fortunately, he knows you pretty well too. 

He stops mid sentence to look down at you curiously. "You've been… quiet today. Am I boring you?"

"Nah." You wave him off. "It's. Just something I gotta deal with." 

For as long as you've known him, Megatron has never been one to beat around the bush, so it doesn't surprise you when he asks, "Which means?"

"..." You down at your hands, unable to meet his ruby red optics. "My friend died. 's why I was on vacation." It was a shitty vacation. 

Megatron freezes. " _ Oh _ ." 

"It-- it's  _ okay,  _ I'm gonna be  _ fine _ ." If you keep repeating that, does it make it true? You forgot to eat the first day, but you had some crackers this morning so  _ clearly _ you're getting better already. 

"I'm sorry." Megatron says, his voice… careful, gentle, in a way you've never heard before. You've seen him put on that charming facade of his, but this isn't that.

This is dulled optics and gentle servos as he repeats, "I'm sorry. I have lost many friends, and it is never simply  _ okay _ ." 

You can only press yourself so close, but still. You try. "Yeah." You agree. 

"What can I do?" 

_ Bring my friend back. _ You take a deep breath. "Talk about poetry some more?" 

His smile is impossibly soft (especially for someone literally made of metal). "Yes. Where was I?" 

You shrug. "Just start at the beginning." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Boy Have I Been Feeling Some Kind Of Way. 
> 
> got a double update tho what up


End file.
